Forbidden Italy
by Amavi
Summary: If you're looking for Ludwig-torture... and Feliciano cuteness... and pasta jokes... and just randomness... yeah. You might possibly like this.
1. Bitter

_/*_

_I should be asleep but I feel like writing, dangit! Here we go._

_This is my adaptation from the Forbidden Fruit - 30 Themes found on livejournal. I didn't really know what to do about the forbidden fruit part, so I've decided to just torture Germany for thirty chapters under the assumption that he likes Italy and doesn't understand his feelings. Because I kind of picture Ludwig as a bit of a blockhead. haha_

_As a forewarning, I will not be considering this one of my main stories, so it's just for fun and to help me with writer's block. For that reason I can't guarantee quality either, but feel free to critique._

_Note: I use "Italia" and "Doitsu" as nicknames occasionally when they are talking to each other, because that's how they call each other in the manga and anime, and it just feels more natural. All the other times I will try to use their "real" names though: "Ludwig" and "Feliciano"._

_._

_Also: I'm new to the Hetalia fandom here so please don't hate me haha. If I make mistakes with facts or something, let me know._

_*/_

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**Forbidden Fruit - 30 Themes**  
01. Bitter

"I'm not sick, Ludwig! Really I'm not!" Feliciano tried to explain, his breath turning to fog in the cold night air. He tried to pull away from the impossibly firm grip on his wrist, but there was no hope of succeeding. It was Ludwig, after all. He dropped his shopping bags onto the sidewalk and wiped his nose on his sleeve.

"Of course you are, just look at you." Those piercing blue eyes were staring intently at Feliciano's brown ones, and there was a moment in which neither could look away. It quickly passed, however, and the Italian looked at his feet while he dug in his back pocket with the other hand for that white flag of surrender- he would be needing it soon, surely. Ludwig stepped closer, and removed his left glove before placing that hand on Feliciano's forehead. "You're warm" he said. "You're just really cold!" Feliciano replied, smiling. He coughed into his sleeve, and then continued smiling stupidly. The German took off his other glove and let them both fall to the icy sidewalk, as he checked against his own forehead. "You have a fever." Ludwig frowned.

"I'm fine! Really! As long as I can still boil pasta, there's nothing wrong with me!" Feliciano whined. It was clear who was going to win the argument, though. He clutched his white flag, preparing to wave it frantically at his friend's answer.

"Idiot." After giving a heavy sigh, surprisingly, Ludwig dropped the subject. He bent down to pick up his gloves and then slowly put them on again, carefully tugging at each finger and testing the flexibility of each fit. Feliciano stared at him curiously, the entire time, with his white flag resting limply at his side. "Your fingers look like macaroni."

"What?" Ludwig asked accusingly, and Feliciano shrunk back waving his secret weapon as a shield in front of his body. It was a reflex. "Batabatabata" he chanted. Then he sneezed, dropping the flag to the ground. And then he picked it up and continued chanting. But apparently Ludwig didn't want to pick a fight. "Sorry, Feliciano." He said. It left the poor Italian even more confused than before.

"How long are you going to stare at me like that? Come on, let's go home already."

Bending down again, Ludwig picked up the two plastic grocery bags full of pasta, and walked past Feliciano without looking at him. Sliding the bags onto his wrist, he rubbed his gloves together for warmth, staring down the deserted winter sidewalk. Night was usually very cold in Germany but tonight especially so; it seemed that through the winter months no matter how warmly dressed he was, he still felt chilled. And on top of that, he wanted to go home quickly because he didn't want the Italian to worsen his condition by just standing here.

But of course, the Italian was just standing there. Ludwig stopped walking, and waited for a moment refusing to look back. "Get over here," he said. But Feliciano didn't move at all. "Hurry up." He ordered. No response. He turned around, looking behind half expecting him to be passed out on the ground, but he was still just standing there. "Hey, come on…"

"Are you angry at me?" Feliciano asked in a very small voice.

Ludwig sighed. "No, I'm not angry."

"Then why do you look angry?"

"I'm not angry!"

"Eek, you _are_ angry!"

"NO I'M NOT." It came out loudly before he could think, or revise it. Ludwig took a deep breath. Then he took a second one, just for good measure. He crossed his arms and had to struggle for silence, to not to embarrass himself in front of Feliciano again. "… I'm not angry." He muttered.

_It's just… Italia… you say that we're friends, but the only thing you really like is pasta. Right?_

_._

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_A/N: Poor awkward Doitsu. I wonder if I can really torture him for 30 chapters? I'd have to develop callouses first or something xD_

_Thanks for reading! Sorry I know that I don't really have a feel for the characters yet, I am sure I've made a lot of mistakes but hopefully they will be more in character by the end! There will be 29 more chapters, with a somewhat coherent story based on the list of 30 themes. This chapter was "Bitter" and next will be "Sweet"._

_I found the list on livejournal's 30_Forbidden community, if you're looking for it._

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	2. Sweet

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_This might be really weird, but the other day I made pasta, and I put in potatoes. I didn't even think about it until I was eating it, and I realized that the chicken, mushrooms, etc were good, but the potatoes didn't cook all the way. The potatoes were all kind of hard and crunchy in the middle, and I just kept thinking "this is what Doitsu would taste like." And yet the pasta was all soft and delicious and buttery~_

_But I learned, that this is probably why people don't cook pasta with potatoes. The potatoes are much more dense and take longer to cook all the way through._

_._

_._

_And then I realized, as I am typing this, that these foods kind of say a lot about the characters, don't they? Just... wow. Way to go Himamura. xD_

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**02. Sweet**

"Doitsu?" Feliciano used the nickname cautiously, these days. It seemed his friend was especially angry about something lately, but the Italian was still afraid to ask. It might have been because he had skipped out on training last week or started flirting with girls in the middle of his warm-up lap, or that he had left the pots sitting out all night and there were flies in the morning… it could have been so many things. But those were all normal things. This was something different, and it was beginning to become a bit worrysome… so Feliciano thought, maybe now was the time to finally ask…

"Italia." Ludwig replied curtly, arms crossed, waiting. "Let's go home."

Feliciano rubbed his shoe into the snow beneath his feet. "Why are you so angry?"

"I told you, I'm not angry… so stop asking me. I'm not angry at you." Ludwig closed his eyes and took a deep breath. It was only a half-lie. He was too embarrassed to tell him the real reason, anyway.

"Okay… then… " the Italian paused, on the edge of a question, but decided against it after all. He made a pile of snow with his shoe, but sneezed, and accidentally knocked it over. He sighed, and stepped on it absently in the shape of a large rigatoni. Realizing what shape it was, he felt reassured somehow that things would get better on their own… somehow. It was a sign of good luck, this rigatoni. He was sure of it. Then Feliciano realized he was too much a coward to ask further, anyway. If Ludwig said he was fine, then he was fine, and he didn't want to be bothered! Feliciano understood that. Ludwig was waiting.

"Then… if you're not angry… let's go home and make pastaaa! Ve~!" the Italian smiled broadly, looking up at last. He wiped his nose with one hand and then wiped it on his pants.

"Yeah." Ludwig sighed, and started walking towards home again. This time, Feliciano jogged a bit to catch up with him. "And when we get home, you need to throw out the trash, because I-"

"Hey." Ludwig frowned, looking over his shoulder. "Don't over-exert yourself. Idiot."

"...Ve?"

Ludwig stopped walking, and waited until Feliciano was at his side. He didn't say anything, but it bothered him- it was hard to believe something stupid like that could actually come out of his own mouth. He sighed. Feliciano did plenty of stupid things after all, so it was only reasonable to allow himself some small margin for error... right? He wondered if stupidity was contagious, and made a mental note to check into this later. From there on they walked home in silence, admiring the chill air and twinkling stars, interrupted only by Feliciano's sneezing and Ludwig's murmurs of "Gesundheit."

_Get well soon, Italia._

_._

_._

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_A/N: Sorry it took a while, I was reading up on the Hetalia comics for Italy and Germany because I wanted to have a better feel for their characters. I think I love them even more now that I've seen some of their weird sides... especially the Valentine's day comics. Just wow. I never realized they were actually cannon? Correct me if I understood wrong?_

_Anyways, I'm probably having more fun writing this than you will reading it, so I'm sorry about that, but next chapter will be really good I promise! Well, I mean, that's what I'm aiming for anyways haha. The next theme is... "Love." But I have to warn you, I'm not about to let them off the hook so easily, I mean, this is a perfect opportunity for... you guessed it! Ludwig-torture! yesssss =D_

_..._

_Sorry, Ludwig._

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	3. Love

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_Alrighty! Another chapter at last! I've been itching to write all week, so here goes nothing! Sorry last chapter was so short, this one should be a little better... somehow I like keeping the chapters much more compact than my other stories and I haven't discovered why *shrug*_

_I kind of like these themes, it forces me to write about random situations just to get the point across. And the thoughts at the end always give me a hard time because I would prefer if Ludwig was more in-character but I think that capacity is beyond me, and so I eventually just settle on something and blame it on the theme again. haha. _

_Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, faved, or done an alert on this story, you guys are awesome! =D_

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03. Love**

"It's just as I thought, after all…" Ludwig muttered, looking away for a moment as he dug in his pocket for the keys to his house. Feliciano was shivering, and with his arms crossed for warmth he turned away to look up at the moon. They enjoyed a comfortable silence, the shopping bags from their evening excursion crinkling lightly as Ludwig set them down on the front step. They were completely full of pasta ingredients, nothing else. He smiled awkwardly to himself as he thought about it. He would be eating pasta for the next month, with the supply they had now. Or if Feliciano came over every night, maybe only a matter of days. "It's a nice night, isn't it?" the Italian smiled.

"Y-yeah, I guess…" Ludwig stopped with the key in the lock, and turned to look at the person beside him. That right there was a creature he knew he would never understand. But he didn't mind that somehow, it was nice to just talk sometimes and not have to worry… he was beginning to understand that Feliciano was no longer such a nuisance to him, anymore. It was a strange feeling, to be sure.

"Ludwig? Are you okay?" Feliciano waved his hand in front of the bigger man's face and he was taken aback. The German blushed wildly when he realized he had been staring— then he blushed harder because why should it be embarrassing to stare at your friend? Ludwig hung his head and tried to hide his flushed cheeks as he focused only on the doorknob, and then finally after a few tries he opened the front door and shuffled inside. Feliciano was the one who remembered to pick up the pasta bags, this time.

"You can put the bags on the counter," he mumbled.

"Okay! Ve~" Italy danced off happily toward the kitchen.

"Are you actually planning to make it right now? Or can I put everything away?" Ludwig followed him to the kitchen and leaned against the doorway, watching him set the bags down correctly on the counter next to the stove where they belonged. He felt the corner of his mouth twitch lightly towards a grin.

"Why do you think I went shopping? Of course I'm making pasta! Ve~"

"Thought so, but it doesn't hurt to ask." Ludwig shrugged and walked out into the living room. Turning on the light, he sat down with that morning's paper that he hadn't gotten a chance to read yet. Feliciano had come over in the morning asking to play soccer again, and well, it was fun and all but it sure didn't leave much time for getting work done. He sighed heavily thinking of all the paperwork on his desk, just waiting for tomorrow. Ludwig reached over to the coffee table and picked up his reading glasses, cleaning them with the special cloth they had come with, and then put them on. Amazing what a difference they made, just this small pair of glasses made everything come into focus, all these words on the page were smears without them. Ironic, almost. He chuckled, and then wondered why it was funny.

There were about five seconds in which Ludwig managed to read the first sentence before: "Hyaaaa! Uwaaa….itititiitititititaaaaa!" He heard Feliciano shriek in the kitchen and make weird noises— he threw down his paper and rushed over to check on him. "Italia! What's going on?"

Feliciano clutched his hand and was bent in half, crying. "What happened? What did you do?" Germany walked over to him quickly, though he already had a hypothesis in mind about the answer. "Hey, pull yourself together! Stop crying!"

"It hurts… it hurts!" Ludwig tried to step closer and reached for the wounded hand, but Feliciano did a good job of pushing him away. He got a hand to the face when he tried, and the glasses went skittering across the floor. Angrily, Ludwig grabbed the Italian's wrist and tried to talk sense into him. "Let me see it!" he bellowed.

"Hnng okay… okay… yaa don't be mad at me!" Terrified, Feliciano opened his hand rather than lose his head. Ludwig inspected the shaking fingers carefully, gripping probably much tighter than was necessary. However, there was nothing wrong with the hand at all. He looked up curiously. Feliciano was still curled around the other hand, he realized, and suddenly his anger started bleeding away. He kneeled on the floor to be closer to the sobbing Italian.

"Show me your other hand." He spoke more gently this time, or tried to anyway. Feliciano looked up at him unsure, tears streaming down his face and he was starting to hiccup now. There was nothing but pity for the guy now. Ludwig squirmed uncomfortably but couldn't leave, either. "Give me your hand…. please." He felt his face turn pink as he choked out he words, but figured it was worth trying to being nice, because honestly the sooner this was treated the sooner it would heal. This was ridiculous, and extreme, but it seemed every time something like this happened he always forgot how much of a crybaby Feliciano could be. He sighed, knowing it was useless to chide him for it, because he would only cry harder. He waited for a few moments, but the Italian leaned over on his shoulder and didn't answer.

"How did it happen?" Ludwig asked conversationally, reaching cautiously now for the other hand.

Feliciano gave it over without a fight, and Ludwig noticed there really was a fair amount of blood this time. He didn't say anything, only reached into his green jacket pocket and pulled out his handkerchief.

"I was trying to open the bag of flour…"

"Flour? Really?" Ludwig tried to keep him distracted.

"Yeah, it was hard to open with just my teeth so I stopped and used your scissors instead…"

"Wait… you did this with scissors? How could you do this with scissors?" he looked up, incredulous.

"I cut my finger…" Feliciano sobbed, and started shaking again.

"You…." He looked down at the bandaged hand and back at the idiot in front of him. "You cut your finger like this with my pair of kitchen scissors?" The little guy nodded his head vigorously, tears still streaming down his face. "They're really dangerous, you shouldn't keep such dangerous things in your house…!"

"How could you cut your hand like this with scissors? It's not supposed to work like that. What were you doing, how did it happen?"

"I was cutting the bag, and I was cutting it, and I sneezed…"

Ludwig was at a loss for words. This guy must have a talent for being unlucky. How dangerous was a pair of scissors, really? He sighed. "Stop crying already."

.

.

.

_Men don't cry, so don't confuse me._

…

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_A/N: Hmmm... the lack of pasta jokes makes me want to cry. Next time I will put in a lot more! Actually I have a really good idea for next time, originally I was going to use it for today's theme "Love" but I realized it was better suited for "Hate" which is going to be next up so... hehe. Torture here we come! Also, to anyone who has never cut themselves with scissors… let me tell you it's really more scary mentally than anything else! I cut off part of my pinky once and I passed out on the floor for about 30 seconds because I was so scared! I woke up under a chair with a huge headache and my sister standing over me with a band-aid._

_Also, props to umi4ever for introducing me to the nickname "Luddy" xD Awesome._


	4. Hate

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_Well, sorry it's been so long since I updated! For a while there I was just either busy, incredibly tired, or somehow experiencing a writing block. What else is new right? But luckily it went away and here we go with the next chapter! Thanks for all your wonderful faves, alerts, and reviews! =D_

_And I don't know, but it kind of feels like this is turning into a love triangle between Ludwig, Feli, and pasta. weird. xDDD_

_._

_WARNING: this chapter contains some mild language. Possibly not K-rated... but if you read or watch Hetalia it's nothing you haven't seen before._

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**04. Hate**

Ludwig tried to be sympathetic. He tried to be patient, and calm, and understanding, but he had been waiting for the Italian to collect himself for what felt like hours now, and Feliciano was still carrying on and clutching at his hand as if it were going to fall off, and it was now approaching a certain limit to how much the German could take.

"Italia. Seriously, stop crying!" There was a definite tinge of frustration in his voice this time, unlike all the others which had merely contained annoyance, but Feliciano continued to ignore him. Yet finally with those words, Ludwig had reached the last straw.

"You have ears, you see these things sticking off your head? _USE THEM_!" Ludwig raising his voice wasn't exactly something which could calm anyone down, of course. He regretted it almost instantly. Feliciano just started crying harder. It felt extremely awkward to see a grown man continue carrying on like this, no matter how many times it had happened before … with a grunt of irritation Ludwig noticed Feli's nose running and decided to get another handkerchief. He stood up from the floor, but Feliciano simply wiped his nose on his sleeve and the German sighed.

Minutes passed like this, or maybe just extremely long seconds, emptily with only the sounds of Italy crying. "Do… do I scare you, Italia?" What a stupid question.

Feliciano continued bawling, but managed to nod his head silently. Ludwig coughed uncomfortably and looked around as if he could find someone to help him out of this. Had he really expected any other answer? Finally though, Italy slowed down enough to mumble "Only sometimes."

"Sometimes… I scare you sometimes?"

"Y-yeah…" Feli sniffed wetly and lifted his good hand to wipe his eyes, "but if you were more like pasta, then maybe…" he couldn't finish the sentence, and simply started crying some more.

"Like pasta? I don't want to be some wiggly noodle…" Germany put his hands on his hips, and frowned. "Okay, that's it. Out of the kitchen. If you can't stop crying you're going straight to bed." It was time to start treating children like children. This was utter nonsense, anyway.

"…eh?" Feliciano looked up at him bleary eyed, with his face wet and nose running again.

Ludwig rolled his eyes and bent down to the brunette's level, lifting him under the arms and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. It was so easy. "Bedtime."

"Let go! I'm still hungry! Ve~ " Feliciano's stomach growled loudly in unison with his words, as if it had understood the situation, and was growling now just to make a point. Ludwig shrugged, and carried the Italian out of the kitchen. It had been quite enough excitement for one day, anyway.

"What are you doing? I haven't made the pasta yet, let me go! Where are you going?" Feliciano complained fervently, but it wasn't like he could fight him off either. "The pasta… is in… the other… direction!" He continued flailing his arms, but it had no effect. Then he sneezed on his captor and suddenly there was a crunching sound- Ludwig looked down and realized he had just stepped on his reading glasses. He groaned in exasperation, and put the Italian down.

"Ve! Your glasses…"

Ludwig picked them up off the floor and examined them- the glass was cracked and the frame was flattened a bit from the way he had stepped on it. Staring fixedly at the mangled glasses he felt his face growing hotter, but for some reason he wasn't angry. Rather, an idea had just popped into his head, and it churned around wildly making him feel almost nauseous trying to continue thinking it.

" Doitsu, I'm sorrryyy!" Feliciano wailed and burst into tears once again. "I'm sorryyy I ruined your dinner, and now I broke your glasses…. Please don't be angry at meeeee!" He tried to run away but Ludwig blocked him easily. The German was thinking very intently about something.

"Just… Italia. Why don't… er-" he tried to find the right words for this, but they seemed to scuttle into the far reaches of his mind the more he tried to grasp at them. Italy stopped struggling and looked up curiously. The more he tried to find those words, the more Ludwig felt his face turning red, until eventually he realized any words would do- they blurted out of his mouth before he had time to think. "Italia, why don't I just make the pasta?"

There was a moment of shocked silence. But, of course, it didn't last long. "Whaaaat? Ve, that's crazy! If you made the pasta, it would taste disgusting!" Feliciano waved his arms for emphasis. Then he stopped, staring off into space.

"I could at least try it, don't you think? Better than you slicing up your good hand…"

There was no response, only a faint buzz inside his head, and he realized after a while that Feliciano, who now had his head tilted to one side, hadn't even heard him. Frustrated, the German tried to catch the attention of his spacey friend, but only received a finger pointed at himself. Frustrated, Ludwig finally looked down at himself and realized there was a rather large lump of snot on his shirt, apparently now a spectacle of modern art. He sighed heavily, and placed one hand on his face, rubbing his tired eyes. He found that he couldn't help but look at it again, himself.

"That's disgusting, you know."

"Ve~" Feliciano smiled, and as he and Ludwig continued staring at the blob, the smile grew into a hoarse little sighing laugh, and Ludwig shifted his gaze to watch the Italian carefully instead. "But it looks kind of like Farfelle!" More hoarse laughter. Actually it sounded more like panting or short breathing than laughter, but Ludwig knew well enough from the expression on his face that it was. The German felt himself blushing for some strange reason, but the more he tried to hide it the deeper the shade became.

He tried to change the subject, though he was glad the mood was so much lighter now… even if it meant being humiliated by Feliciano's newest masterpiece. "So, I really can't make pasta this time?" he was more teasing now, than anything.

"Of course not!" the Italian was dead-set serious on this one.

Ludwig felt strangely disappointed somehow, but succeeded well in hiding it. His face was as impassive as ever, but he couldn't help thinking about it. "Disgusting, you say? Hmmm…well, you could just write down the instructions, and I would follow them." Ludwig placed a hand on his chin thoughtfully. This was a rather strange situation, he had never once tried making pasta before… but it would prove an interesting experiment, and he felt almost eager to try now…

"No! No way! You could never, never make pasta!" Feliciano was exasperated, as if this were the stupidest idea he had ever heard. "Why not?" Ludwig wanted to know. It was the Italian's turn to sigh. "Because… pasta isn't made with a list, it's made with _LOVE._"

"So?" the blonde shrugged, and leaned against the wall cornering Feliciano back into the kitchen.

"So… anything you made would just taste like _shit_! Step away from my brother." Ludwig snapped to look in the direction of the new voice- it was Romano, of all people, walking through the front hall of his house.

"How the hell did you get inside my house?"

"I came in the window?" Ludwig stared at him ludicrously. "Look, you leave it wide open like that it's basically an invitation. Come on Veneziano, we're going home now. Leave this potato bastard to cook whatever shit he's used to eating."

"Don't be so mean… Ve…" Feliciano looked over at Ludwig sadly, as Romano shoved the stunned German aside and took his brother by the elbow. Ludwig came to his senses quickly though and crossed his arms, standing firm and blocking their path once again.

"D-dammit…" Romano took one look at the frowning German and felt himself start shaking. "It's not like I want to fight you or anything… H-he's sick, you know? He shouldn't be out all night screwing around with you, potato brains. That's why I came to take him home!"

Ludwig surveyed the brothers with his arms crossed, but there was no reason to be angry, really. Romano only wanted what was best for his brother. That was clear enough.

"What, what? Stop staring at us!" Romano held his brother around the shoulders and much to the sibling's dismay, started side-kicking at Ludwig who was still blocking his escape. "Move already! Why aren't you saying anything, you rotten-"

"Knock on the door next time. "

"What?" Romano's curl bobbled as he looked up curiously.

"Knock next time, and I will let you in properly. No need to climb in through a window."

"Oh."

"Also, make sure he takes some medication, you don't want his condition to worsen. In fact, I would prefer if you let him stay here so that he wouldn't have to wander around outside anymore today…"

"Oh."

"Also, he hasn't eaten enough so make sure he keeps up with his nutrition because we have a rigorous training schedule to meet…"

Romano glared at the German sullenly. "…what are you anyway, his mother? I know how to take care of him, stupid! And what are you thinking, there's _no way_ he's training while he's sick! It's bad enough you force him to do it at all! That's called _torture._"

The key turned in the front lock, and a certain silver-haired country stepped into the house back-end first, closing the door with his leg. The three in front of the kitchen turned to look.

"Oh, hey, Romano isn't it? What are you doing here?" Gilbert was carrying a 24-pack of beer and when he came closer the three stepped aside to let him through to the kitchen. "Did you come to bask in my awesomeness?"

Bickering started passing lightly back and forth between them, and Ludwig took a moment to think about everything that had just happened. Something felt very strange in all this, especially the last thing Romano had said. It made no sense, it kept ringing in his ears. "_Torture". _To Italy, training was torture…?

Feliciano whimpered as his brother argued and Ludwig's stare bored through him. It was uncomfortable to be in the middle of all this… he didn't like to cause so much trouble. He just wanted his pasta! And he wanted to spend time with Ludwig. Why did everything have to become so much more complicated than that? Hesitantly, Feliciano reached out to tug lightly on the German's shirt and called his name. "Ludwig? Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." He answered without thinking, and he realized that those words may or may not have been true. It was hard to say, there were too many factors to consider in his mind at the moment.

"Really?" A pair of large brown eyes glistened up at him worriedly, and Ludwig felt something uncomfortable again; he realized he was still staring and looked away. "… I'm fine…" he felt idiotic for repeating himself, but it was all he could think of to say. His mind was preoccupied— for all the complaining, maybe Feliciano truly hated training, after all…? Was it… was it torture? But then why would he show up every time, if he hated it? That wouldn't make any sense at all…

"Ve, Doitsu? I'm suddenly really tired, just like you said…" he smiled and wiped his eyes with one hand. "Can it be my bedtime now?" He yawned, swaying dangerously close to the counter, and Ludwig reached out to catch him before he could possibly topple over. Romano turned around and saw this, grumbling loudly before hurling more insults at the German.

"Don't even think about it, I'm taking him back with me whether you like it or not! He can sleep in his own bed!" Romano puffed up angrily and Gilbert watched, amused, in the background.

"Nii-chan, I'm so tired though…" his face was flushed, and he kept his eyes closed.

"Shut up, we're leaving right now."

Ludwig reached out with his other hand on a strange impulse to check Feli's fever one more time. Hand pressed against the brunette's forehead, he realized it felt much, much worse than it had before. Feliciano was burning up inside there! He was weak, after all… Ludwig cursed himself for not taking better care of his first, and possibly only, friend. Feliciano opened his eyes and looked up at Ludwig sadly, almost apologetically. The German made up his mind.

"He stays."

_Even if I only end up hurting you, even if I have to administer torture, I hope you know that it's only because I want you to be stronger. I want us to be strong, together. _

_._

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_A/N: Sorry it didn't quite turn out like I had hoped, but it is what it is, and the story goes on! =)_

_The next chapter is "Black" and I will just say right now, the first thing that came to mind was "England's scones." I haven't written it yet so I don't know, but I definitely kind of really want to put scones in there haha. And sorry if I overdid the pasta jokes this time, it's just too much fun and when they come to me it feels like a shame to not include them!_

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	5. Black

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Sadly, no scones after all... I wish I could have put them in though. haha ((maybe later... muahahha))

Also, this chapter is a bit different than the others so far, hopefully you'll still like it... basically I see Ludwig as being kind of klutzy when it comes to Feliciano, if only because he can't understand him very well. story so far Earlier, they went shopping together and he realized Feli had a cold so he took him straight home. Soon after, while cooking pasta Feliciano hurt himself in the kitchen, and then later still they were confronted by Romano. In the end, Ludwig was very bent on having Feliciano stay the night, mostly because he felt partly responsible for his worsened condition and wanted to make sure he was okay- naturally, Romano was angry but eventually realized couldn't do anything and went home (not like he'd want to camp out at the potato palace! though that's food for another story i guess haha). I took advantage of this chapter's theme to use more symbolism than direct actions... you can't see so clearly in the dark, right? haha dumb I know. xD

...

Funny how just one day can totally change your life. Or one event, one hour, even one moment... at this point, the story isn't following the Hetalia storyline at all of course, but think of it I guess as an alternate approach to the relationship between Luddy ;D and Feliciano. And pasta! Which is somehow missing in this chapter. *gasp*

Also, I should have put this in more often, but of course Hetalia and all its characters belong to the one and only Himamura Hidekazu. Yup.

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**05. Black**

When Feliciano woke up he was alone, and he felt the deep darkness pressing in on his eyeballs. It was terrifying. He sat up straight and tried to focus on something, anything, that would break the black void which surrounded him. He felt that he was sitting on something soft; there were blankets… he realized he was on a bed. He crawled forward to try and find the edge of the bed, but met it before he was ready and accidentally tumbled headfirst onto the floor.

Laying there in the dark, sprawled in a tangle of sheets and cold sweat, he tried to think through this just a little. Why was he here? This was Ludwig's room, it had to be— it smelled like him and had the same inky blackness… but Ludwig wasn't here. Trying to think back, he kept drawing a blank. Why was Ludwig gone?

Moments later there were footsteps, and the door burst open. Someone turned on the light and Feliciano was blinded, clutching his hands to his face and making weird sounds. Like a turtle on its back, the Italian waved his feet in slow-motion agony, trying to free himself from the tangle of bed covers and remove himself from the painful brightness, with his hands over his eyes all the while.

"What the- hey. Italia, are you okay?" Ludwig's voice came closer, and Italy smiled. He felt the German's shadow block some of the light, and he managed to squint up at him. "I'm fine. Ve~ where were you? It was scary waking up alone."

"Er… I've been downstairs. Don't worry about anything right now, just… here, let's get you up." Ludwig quickly freed Feliciano from the tangle of blankets and helped him stand up. The Italian rubbed sleep from his eyes and the German felt himself blushing again for no apparent reason. Well, there was a possible reason actually, it had come up in the several hours Feliciano had been sleeping, but he didn't want to think about that right now.

"Thanks." The brunette smiled brightly, his curly hair bobbing and his cheeks tinged slightly pink.

"What were you doing, anyway?" Ludwig ruffled his messy hair and tried to appear nonchalant, but really he was kind of curious how it happened.

"I was sleeping, but then I fell off." Feliciano shrugged.

"You fell off the foot of the bed?"

"I… I er… ve…" Feliciano searched for some excuse, but in the end he just settled for faking a yawn because he was too tired to think of anything else. He hoped it wouldn't matter.

"Well, anyway, you should go back to sleep now. Try not to fall off again." Germany turned to leave, but only made it as far as the door frame. "Doitsu? Where are you going?" It was hard to listen to that voice, and not feel anything. It was a terrible gut-clenching feeling, but somehow almost light and enjoyable. It was confusing; it was an intolerable chaos. "I'm going back downstairs." He answered simply as possible. He tried to sound like nothing was wrong, but after arguing with Gilbert and hanging up on Kiku, he had to admit that maybe they were onto something.

"Why downstairs? Isn't it late?" Feliciano looked for a clock, and Ludwig's eyes followed suit… it was four in the morning according to the one over the dresser. Ludwig knew he was a workaholic at times, that much was obvious, but today nothing had gotten done at all, and now he was behind… and besides, it was too strange. Italy needed the rest, and so Ludwig gladly gave up his bed. He wasn't going to be able to fall asleep anytime soon, anyway. Not anymore.

Feliciano stepped forward, his eyes overflowing with concern. "Don't we always sleep together though?" It was a statement, not a question. And sadly, Feliciano had a point. Except Ludwig was the one who invariably went to bed alone, and sometimes woke up with company. Not the other way around.

"You have a fever, Italia. Get some sleep."

Ludwig turned off the light switch quickly without looking back, and without answering any of those questions. But suddenly a pair of arms were wrapped around his middle; Ludwig breathed in sharply, surprised. Then he sighed heavily and just stood there, chest pounding softly, neither throwing him off nor accepting it. It was a nervous feeling, unlike all the other times he'd been hugged— it should have been like any other day but this time, tainted by knowledge, he didn't really know what to do.

Feliciano broke the silence, with a timid question. "Can I come with you instead?"

"Downstairs?" Ludwig raised an eyebrow, but of course Feliciano saw nothing. "…Why?"

"I don't want to be alone…"

"You need your rest, Italia."

"I can't sleep."

"Well, try."

_._

_Perhaps nothing has changed, for you. But for me…_

_._

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A/N: "Where do I file these weird emotions? I've never seen them before!" - Hetalia valentines day comic. *love*

Also. Just wanted to announce, I am now apparently sucked into a war with my sister over this one question: which is better, potatoes or tomatoes? We decided to settle our dispute with a battle in writing, and so this is the real question... which is better, Germany Italy or Spain Romano? You can guess which side I'm on. xD

I love my potatoes haha. Personally irl I think potatoes are the most delicious food out there, and they can be eaten with just about anything... they fill you up, and are very versatile because you can cook them in different ways too. Tomatoes are just squishy and ew. And whoa... I may never think of french fries and ketchup the same ever again. Germano? D=

...

Anyway, I think her story's really cute so far, so if you want to read some spamano or diss some tomatoes, look no further! fanfiction .net/s/6070834/1/My_Hidden_Thoughts

But don't forget to show your potato love! Ludwig and Feliciano are soooo much cuter than silly tomato-lovers right?

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